Caught in the Past
by Rhiannon River
Summary: When Jasmine Blake got pregnant at sixteen with her best friend's brother, she, her best friend, and her baby ran off to New York City. They live peaceful lives. But what happens when Jaz runs into their other best friend who she'd fallen for before?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi I'm Rhiannon! This is my first story on FF and it's an original story that I wrote myself based off an RP I've been doing for a year or so. So I hope you like it! Please review! Thanks! **

* * *

><p><span>Prologue<span>

The sixteen-year-old girl put her thirteen-month-old baby girl, who lay sleeping peacefully in her car seat, in the warm pick-up truck quickly to save her from the rain. She shut the door then quickly ran back to the porch to get her suitcases. She put them in the truck then quickly got in passenger seat.

Her best friend looked back at the baby from the driver's seat then back at her. "Ready to go, Jazzy?" the driver asked.

Jasmine nodded, pulling her hood down. "Let's get out of here, Pey," she told her best friend.

Peyton nodded and pulled out the driveway, the two girls were headed for New York to escape the whispers Jaz heard about herself every day at school.

Jaz sighed and looked out the window, placing her hand to it. "I'm sorry, Lucas," she whispered sadly like her other best friend was there with them. "I'll always love you."

Pey took her friend's hand and squeezed it. They rode together like that for maybe an hour or two.

The BOOM! of thunder and the baby crying made both girls jump.

Jaz turned in her seat and put the pacifier in her baby's mouth then took her hand. "Hush now, Brookey," she whispered. Soon, baby Brookelyn fell asleep again. "It's alright now, Brookey," Jaz whispered. "We're free and safe now."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So I'll be updating really fast because I've already written a chapter and the prolouge and a second chapter in progress.**

Chapter One

_Jasmine_

I was leaving home again after the first visit since Pey, Brooke, and I ran away ten years ago. Pey was already in the car, having said goodbye to both my mother and her own parents. I'd already hugged Pey's parents and my adopted little sister. Now, I stood face-to-face with my mother. My mother who comforted me when my dad just up and left us, my mother who taught me to play piano, acoustic guitar, and violin, my mother who took me to the funeral after my big brother killed himself, and my mother who taught me to be a mother because I screwed up at sixteen.

We stared at each other for a long moment, identical bright green eyes searching for something, but what? Finally, I gave in and hugged her. She ran her hand over the dark brown waves that were my hair and kissed my naturally tan, being half Latina, forehead.

I pulled away and we smiled at each other. I stepped back and waved at everyone before getting in the car, Pey and Brooke already in it, and sighed as we drove away to the airport to get back to the home we'd made in NYC.

After we'd runaway, we'd lived in a small town just outside NYC while Pey and I finished school. Pey, of course, went on to college—Harvard Law on a full-ride scholarship, actually—and now works with a law firm in the city. She helps with divorces and custody cases. It helps pay the bills.

I, on the other hand, am a well-known Broadway actress. I haven't actually auditioned for a play since I was seventeen, nine years ago. I was in "Alice in Wonderland" and had such a small part with so few lines that I don't even remember what it was. But some hotshot director on Broadway all but begged me to be in his next show. I was about to turn him down when he said he'd pay me five hundred dollars. That sealed the deal for me.

If I hadn't of taken the part, my life right now would be completely different. My leading man in the play was a young man named Nick Calloway. It wasn't long before we fell in love, hard and fast. A year after, when I was nineteen and he was twenty-one, he proposed to me and I accepted.

Not but a month after, six of us bought a mansion just outside the city to live in. It was Nick, Caleb, Nick's little boy, Brooke, Pey, Matt, Nick's brother and Pey's boyfriend, Marissa, Matt's twin, and José, Marissa's stupid boyfriend at the time. We were out own little mixed up family, but we were family all the same. Until six years ago, that is.

Had…the Incident not happened, I would be happily married at twenty-six with my twenty-seven-year-old husband, ten-year-old daughter, and fourteen-year-old step-son.

Usually, I don't talk about it, but I guess I can make an exception here….

When I was twenty and Nick was a month, two weeks, and three days—yes, I still remember the exact date of the Incident and his birthday—from being twenty-two, we got into a fight. A big fight that started out with something little and stupid, but ended with him storming out of the house and into his car, taking Caleb with him.

After about twenty minutes, I couldn't take it anymore and called him. I apologized and he did too. He was on his way home, still on the phone with me, when I heard a horn honk and then the screech of tires. Then there was a sound so terrible, crunching metal, I now know, along with breaking glass and then the line when dead.

Caleb was eight at the time and had fallen asleep in the car; he supposedly hadn't felt a thing. Nick, though, I _know _felt it. That's what makes it worse on me: He felt it all. Pey, Brooke, and I went down to the scene of the crash and Matt, Marissa, and José came later. Caleb died on the scene, but they rushed Nick to the hospital, the four of us following them.

I was the only one allowed in his hospital room besides Brooke. So I sat in a chair next to his bedside, Brooke in my lap, both of us holding his hand. He woke up two hours after they let the two of us in, I won't even begin to tell you what he looked like.

He looked up at Brooke and I and I saw him try to smile. "Hi, guys," he'd whispered in a scratchy voice.

I'd smiled through my tears. "Hello, darling," I'd whispered back.

"Hi, Daddy," Brooke whispered like they were sharing a secret. Brooke knew that Nick wasn't her biological dad, but she didn't care and had always considered Nick her dad, even now.

"Hey, now, Jazzy, don't cry," he'd told me. I'd laughed through the tears that just kept coming as he'd tried to wipe them away.

There was a knock at the door that made me jump. Pey walked in. She walked over and hugged Nick gently. "I'm gonna take Brooke to get some lunch," she'd told us and we'd nodded.

Brooke'd got on Nick's bed and kissed his cheek, hugging him. "I love you, Daddy," she'd told him. He'd hugged her back.

After Pey took Brooke, I'd burst into tears. When Nick finally calmed me down, I was lying in the hospital bed with him, in his arms. I'd felt him kiss the top of my head then brush my hair out of my face. "I love you, Jasmine," he'd whispered into my hair.

Of course, that'd made me cry once again, so I'd buried my face into his chest. "I love you too, Nick," I'd choked out.

I stayed at the hospital that night and had slept steadily until the beeping of the heart monitor had flat lined and doctors and nurses rushed in.

Nick died that night. I now imagine that he's with Caleb somewhere, playing catch like I used to watch them do in the backyard.

After Nick died, things started to fall apart at home. First José broke up with Marissa, leaving her devastated and depressed, and he left. Whatever attempts Matt, Marissa, and I had made as a band were given up after that. Soon Matt and Marissa just felt that things were too weird and left together, leaving Brooke upset. And within the year, Brooke started dancing and going to a school for ballet and school, I was rushing to and from auditions, and Pey was getting more cases.

Recently though, things have calmed down. It being June, Brooke has summer break, I got a role in a modernized version of _Romeo & Juliet, _and Pey's cases have been resolved. Now and then, I'll still play my guitar, piano, or violin, but not very seriously. Brooke will come down to my little hide away and sing with me if it's a song she knows and Pey will take pictures—she'd wanted to be a photographer or director before we'd ran away.

The car stopped and I was pulled out of my thoughts. I unbuckled myself then got out of the car. I walked behind the car to see Pey opening the trunk. I grabbed my suitcase and put it on the cement.

I looked up at the airport entrance and sighed. I hugged Pey and pulled away to see Brooke had gotten out of the car and was standing close by. I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. I pulled away and looked at them. "I'll see you guys in a couple of days." I turned and headed in the airport.

Pey and Brooke were driving home since they had nothing better to do, but I had rehearsal tomorrow, so I was flying back to the city tonight.

I went through baggage and was left with only my purse as I walked around the airport, waiting on my flight to board. I saw a Starbucks and smiled. I was tired and I really needed some coffee. I walked over to the stand, pulling my wallet out.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So sorry for neglecting you guys, I've been busy. I'm really gonna try to update every second day from now on. But here's Chapter 2. Hope you read and enjoy it. **

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Two<span>

_Lucas_

I sat in the airport with Ronnie, my younger sister, waiting on our flight to New York City to board.

Ronnie is only seventeen and I'm twenty-six. Why am I taking my seventeen-year-old sister to New York City? Because she wants to be famous.

Ronnie was homeschooled, whereas I went to regular school, and so were the rest of her band. They're famous in our little small hometown, so famous that Ronnie had to be called Veronica and where a wig in town. Now Mom's seeing if they can make it in the big time. And since I'm the band's unofficial manager and Ronnie's big brother, I'm going as well.

And Mom thinks it'll be good for me. Even though it's been almost ten years, I still love Jaz and I still refuse to date any girl. Mom probably thought that this would help me get over it and find a girlfriend.

I came out of my thoughts and looked over at Ronnie. She raised an eyebrow at me. "You know," I said. "Even though you've been wearing that straight-haired brunette wig for two years now, I still find it weird to look at you and not see curly blonde hair."

This got a laugh out of her and I grinned. When she finally stopped laughing, she smiled at me. "Well good thing I won't have to wear this much longer, right?"

I nodded and we both just grinned. I loved my little sister. She was the best thing a guy could ask for.

"Hey, Lucas," Ronnie said and I looked at her.

"Yea, Ron?"

"Didn't Jaz and Pey's moms say that they'd run away to New York?"

I looked down. "Yea."

"Think she still looks the same?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. She never did really look a lot different as we grew up. She just kept styling her hair differently, dressing differently, and growing up, but her eyes and face never really changed."

She nodded. "I see. Maybe we'll run into one of them."

I shrugged and started looking around the airport. My eyes fell on a small Starbucks. There was one person up there besides the worker. She had wavy, dark brown, almost black, hair that fell just past her shoulders, she wore jeans tucked into cowgirl boots and a brown tank top, and she had tan skin. She paid the worker and grabbed her coffee. She turned around and I saw a familiar pair of bright green eyes.

"Jaz," I whispered. Ronnie looked up and turned around.

"Wow, it really is her," she said. I looked at my sister and saw a weird glint in her eyes and she got up and grabbed my wrist, pulling me with her. "C'mon."

"Ronnie, no." But it was too late, she ran straight up to Jaz.

"You wouldn't happen to be Jasmine Blake, would you?" she asked.

Something flashed across Jaz's face. Worry? Exhaustion? It disappeared and she quickly regained her composure. "Who wants to know?"

"Well, I'm Ronnie Sparks and this is my brother Lucas. You wouldn't happen to know him?" I looked up and Jaz just studied me.

She smirked and grabbed her wallet out of her purse. "If you're really my Lucas, you'd recognize this little girl." She opened her wallet and in it was a picture of a little girl, about eight or nine. She had light brown hair pulled into a braid, skin about two shades lighter than Jaz's, and eyes exactly like Jaz's.

I stared up at her in amazement. "It's really you. Not exactly, but it's you."

She chuckled and put her wallet away. "Actually, it's my daughter, Brooke, but she looks a lot like me when I was little. Nice to see you again, Lucas."

I grinned. "What are you even doing here?"

"I was visiting the family with Pey and Brooke," she said. "We actually stopped by your house before we were going to leave this morning but your mom told me that I'd just missed you and Ron."

"Wait, Pey and Brooke are here?" I asked.

She shook her head. "They're driving home, but I have rehearsal tomorrow evening so I'm flying in."

"Rehearsal?" Ronnie asked. "For what?" I raised an eyebrow at Jaz.

She grinned proudly. "Oh, did I forget to mention that I'm a renowned Broadway actress again? Oh, darn." She snapped her fingers in fake forgetfulness like she always had.

I chuckled. "Yea, I think you left that part out. When did that happen?"

She thought for a second. "Let's see…I got offered my first job at seventeen…so nine years ago."

I smiled broadly. "Always knew you'd be on Broadway."

She nodded and took a sip of her coffee then looked pointedly at Ronnie. "Word around town is that this girl name Ronnie is famous. And when I asked your mom she said that her daughter, _Veronica_, is very talented in music." She grinned when Ronnie looked a bit flustered. "And I seem to remember a little Veronica with _blonde hair_, not brown. And this Ronnie chick has blonde hair." She looked between Ronnie and I. "Isn't that just the weirdest thing?" She winked at Ronnie.

Ronnie looked at Jaz, her mouth open wide in disbelief, before she shook her head to clear it. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," Ronnie finally stammered.

Jaz winked at her again. "Don't worry, I won't tell. I do it too." She opened the bag she had over her shoulder to reveal a contact case, two wigs—one long, straight and jet black and the other short, curly and bright red, a black skirt, a white blouse, a pair of black heels, and makeup. "Right now I'm Jasmine M. Blake, but I'll be Jazzy Shepard in the street, and just Jaz at home."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Shepard? Where'd you get that from?" I asked.

She looked at me like I should know this. "My mother's maiden name."

I nodded as a woman's voice came over the speaker. "Flight 113 to New York City, now boarding. Flight 113 to New York City, now boarding."

"That's my/our flight," Jaz and I said at the same time and grinned at each other as Ronnie chuckled.

The three of us boarded the plane together and sat together. Ronnie took the window seat, Jaz took the middle, and I took the aisle. Ronnie fell asleep as soon as we were up in the air. Jaz and I talked for a while then the exhaustion I saw on her face earlier came back and she yawned.

"Tired?" I asked and she shook her head then yawned again. "Come on. You can sleep on my shoulder." She sighed but laid her head on my shoulder.

I felt her relax and she took my hand just like when we were in high school and she was upset. So I played my role, laced my fingers through hers and squeezed her hand lightly.

Jaz fell asleep pretty quickly and slept the whole flight, until we were about ten minutes away. Then she woke up and got up and grabbed her bag. Then she went back to the bathroom. About five minutes later, a blue eyed girl with curly, bright red hair, that looked like she was about to go to a business meeting and was carrying a black bag, came out of the bathroom.

I watched as she stopped next to my seat. "Mind if I sit there? Some girl took my seat," the red-head said in a high pitched voice.

"Sure, but my friend'll be back soon then you'll have to sit somewhere else," I told her as she slid into Jaz's seat. "I'm from Shardsville. What about you?"

"Me too, but I moved to NYC two years ago after I finished college," she answered.

"Oh, really? What'd you major in?"

"Business."

"Oh, cool. I'm Lucas Sparks. What's your name?"

She grinned. "Shepard, Jazzy Shepard."

My eyes widened. "Jaz?"

She laughed and nodded. "Good. It works better than I thought it did."

I looked her over. "Wow. Who taught you how to do that?"

"This girl who's done my makeup for tons of plays. I told her about my paparazzi and fan problem and she told me how to do this."

I stared at her. If I looked closely, I could just see the green that surrounded her pupils where the contact color just didn't make it all the way, and, if I imagined her brown hair falling around her shoulders, I could see her face rounding out a bit like it was supposed to; whereas the short red curls made her facial features much sharper.

She smirked when she noticed me looking and I chuckled. Then we heard the voice over the speakers: "Passengers, please sit in your seat and fasten your seatbelts. We are about to begin our descent."

We both buckled our seatbelts and watched as Ronnie woke up for a minute before falling asleep again, both of us laughing. Then Jaz looked at me seriously.

"Where are you guys staying, anyway?" she asked.

"A hotel with the rest of Ronnie's band. They're already there though," I told her.

She thought for a minute then smiled. "Come stay with me. It'll just be me all by myself in my big ole house and it can get quite lonely, and it'd save you guys a ton of money. Please?"

I chuckled. "Of course, Jaz, anything for you." And I meant that in every way possible. I still love her. I always will, whether she loves me back or not.

* * *

><p><strong>So...Did you like it? Love it? Well review and tell me what you think or any ideas you might have for it. And, like I said, I will try to update every second day.<strong>


End file.
